It Was a Tuesday
by Snark-N-Moon
Summary: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. But nobody ever said it was also the kinkiest. Pass the butter, will you?  Quackerjack/Megavolt


DISCLAIMER: The authors do not own DARKWING DUCK or its characters. Everything is nonprofit, done for fun. All depictions of real people (living or dead) or situations are merely all coincidental. No real butter was used in the making of this story. If you like, leave a comment. If you hate, leave a comment. It you are now hungry, leave a comment.

WARNING: Slash. Gay. Homosexuality. Whatever you want to call it; it is here. And is porny. I approve. But in case you do not wish to be scarred, or find something to complain about, you might want to turn back. Just saying.

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It Was a Tuesday

By: Snark & Moonie

Tuesdays weren't special days. No one groaned over it like they did over Mondays, when the Saint Canardians begrudgingly marched into school and work. It didn't have a funny nickname like Wednesday, eyebrow waggles given over "hump day". No "thank god it's Tuesday"! And it wasn't a well deserved rest from the mundane like the weekend. Tuesdays were the most boring day of the week.

Megavolt, however, didn't seem to mind.

The electrical rat was humming to himself happily, in a good mood. The past three nights he and his partner-in-crime had very successful robberies. Well, he mused to himself, only the mad mallard of a toymaker robbed. No-no, HE had liberated three different RadioQuack's all over town. Now the poor defenseless appliances had a happy home with him. Each and every success making their goody goody hero look more and more like the dork he was.

It was enough to make anyone not care about the mundane.

"Megsyyyyyy, I'm booooored."

Well, most anyone anyway.

Megavolt frowned and threw a glance over his shoulder at Quackerjack, or in his general direction, for he was unable too see through walls. The toy maker had planted himself in the living room chair as he waited for his breakfast to be served to him, while Megavolt was in the kitchen, making an omelet. The rodent turned back to his task and flipped it once. Nope, not even that was going to ruin his mood today.

"You can't be bored yet, it's only six in the morning." He replied half-heartedly, not sure if he'd spoken loud enough to be heard, and not really caring. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Or is it seven?" He glanced at another clock. "Nine? I wish you guys would learn to agree for a change." He scolded all twenty-three digital clocks that were scattered around the room.

Quackerjack flipped the channel listlessly, boredom evident in his expression. He turned it from one to the next, before shouting loud enough for Megavolt to hear. Without looking from the television, he cried:

"It's eleventy seven!"

The rodent looked over to the clock over the stove. It was the one he trusted the most and told many a secret to. 11:07 am.

It always freaked Megavolt out when he did that. How DID Quackerjack always seemed to know what time it was? It was like he was built in with an inner clock.

Before the electrical villain could retort with one of his paranoid theories, a violent jingling of bells could be heard as the toymaker jumped off the couch. It continued to give a steady beat, before the duck popped his head from the entry way. He gave a good whiff of the air, before closing his eyes pleasurably.

"That smells goooooood. Whatcha put in it?"

Megavolt smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but his expression fell as he drew a blank. He looked back at the breakfast treat and scratched his head with the handle of the spatula.

"Ummm..." he poked the sizzling glob with the spatula this time and flipped it again as a cover. "I think I see some ham in there." He sniffed twice. "And onions. I hope I didn't put any cheese in these." he finished, eying them warily.

Quackerjack giggled to himself as he recollected the last time Megavolt had made the mistake of eating cheese. He had tooted more than a French horn in an orchestra. While the villain wasn't lactose intolerant, he told the duck he was just sensitive to cheese. Sheesh, what kind of rat couldn't eat cheese?

"Oh, what, the mushrooms in the back of the fridge weren't ripe enough yet? Heh. Stiiiiill, sounds good too! It's nice to not eat take out for breakfast."

Plus, he mused to himself, the Universal House of Waffles had permanently band him from every chain restaurant in the country. Party poopers.

Megavolt made a face and shook some salt over the eggs. "That's disgusting, Quackerjack." he mumbled. He really needed to clean out his fridge; it had been complaining about a nasty taste in the back of its shelf for weeks now.

He could feel the mad duck staring through the back of his head and it made him feel uneasy. He sighed.  
>"Right, you're bored. Umm... you could make the toast, I guess. Bread is in the cupboard, butter's in the fridge, toaster..." he trailed off. "eh. You know." he waved a hand lazily toward the counter where the toaster currently resided.<p>

"That isn't serving me like you promised, Megster. That's making me wooooork." The overgrown manchild paused. "Oh, fiiiine. My hands need something to do, anyway. They won't keep still. I swear they came thiiiiiis close to digging for gold." The rodent groaned again.

"What? I didn't though! I picked the lint off the couch instead."

Megavolt turned around, glaring. Giving a look that said "you better wash your hands before touching the food, or else." Quackerjack pouted as he started walking towards the sink.

"You're just like my mother, sheesh. Next you're gonna give me cooties, or something."

The electrical villain considered retorting, as he watched his friend lather up his hands under the faucet, but decided against it. He noticed he'd been frowning and remembered that today was a good day. He stretched and went back to preparing the food, which he had a sneaking suspicion it should be done by now anyway, stretched, yawned and went back to humming.

He stopped when Quackerjack began humming his own tune, purposefully much louder than Megavolt had been. He caught the toy maker smirking playfully out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't in the mood for that game. He decided to ignore him instead.

But ignoring Quackerjack never had been a good idea. The rodent recoiled moments later when a barrage of tiny droplets of water splattered against the side of his face, causing the skin to spark and crackle where they hit.

"HEY! Don't DO that!" he scolded his laughing assaulter. Megavolt snatched a raggedy dish towel from the counter top and wiped his face with it before chucking it at Quackerjack, smacking him in the face and coming to rest drooped over the duck's over-sized bill.

"Oh, now I'm a hanger too? Heh. Where is the loooove?"

The toymaker, oddly enough, wasn't offended. And instead, decided to laugh at the situation. Getting any reaction out from the rodent was better than nothing at all. His stomach growled, as Quackerjack remembered what he was supposed to do. Being closer to the cabinets, he went there instead. He threw the bread from where he stood, and cheered as is landed perfectly, not squishing the bread.

"Score! Two points for me! Hehe!"

Continuing his mission, the duck went to the fridge. After moving things around, avoiding the temptation to drink from the orange juice carton, he found what he was looking for. Quackerjack shut the door to the appliance with his butt, as he began skipping to the counter, the tub of butter at hand.

"Non moldy bread? Ya know, I'm actually surprised. I had started to believe you just liked growing fungi everywhere. Not that I'M complaining. I'd rather be eating it this way. Green eggs is one thing, but I don't want green toast. That's just nasty. Heh."

Megavolt non-conspicuously shoved the wastebasket with the half loaf of moldy bread he had thrown away just the night before in it around the counter and out of sight. Then he went back to the omelet, but a few more pokes with the spatula told him it was mostly done. He turned the stove as low as it could go without being shut off, and turned around to watch Quackerjack make toast. Under any normal circumstances, watching someone make toast is not the most thrilling experience in the world. But nothing involving these two demented super villains had ever been considered 'normal circumstances'.

Quackerjack stood at the counter, elbows on the counter top, head in his hands, leaning forward as his posterior stuck out and wagged to some musical beat that existed only in the mad mallard's twisted mind. He made different goofy faces in the reflective side of the toaster.

Megavolt couldn't help but grin and snort. When this caused Quackerjack to stop his faces and look over at him, he awkwardly cleared his throat, turned back to the stove and flipped it again, whether it needed it or not.

"Omelets are almost done." he said simply, without turning back around.

Quackerjack immediately perked up again, and made his way to the electrical rodent. Once behind him, he put his hands on his shoulders. He peeked over Megavolt's shoulder, as if he was trying to sneek a peek at a hidden surprise. He beamed happily.

"Ooo, it is? How much longer till it's done? I'm starvin'.I got the munchies."

The rodent jumped at the unexpected contact and immediately shrugged the hands off his shoulders, and half-turned to glare at the duck.  
>" Don't do that. I'm TRYING to concentrate here. Do you WANT burnt eggs for breakfast again?" he hissed before turning back around and poking the eggs again needlessly.<p>

Quackerjack jumped from the unexpected backlash at his innocent gesture. First he glared, upset that he had been yelled at. But then a mischievous grin curled onto his mug. A simple, but effective, plan began to form. The mad mallard brought his fingers close to Megavolt, without actually touching him. Just close enough so it could be sensed by the rodent's body.

"I THOUGHT I said to quit it, Quacky."

"Whaaaaaat? But I'm not touching you. Heh."

"Yeah, but you're still botherin' me. Stop it."

"Iiiiiii'm noooooot touchiiiiiiing yooooou."

Megavolt's blood was beginning to boil at this point. His fists here clenched at his sides and he glared at the pan in front of him.

"Quackerjack, I'm WARNING you. Cut. That. OUT!" he growled through clenched teeth.

The demented duck continued his play, switching up ways to annoy his partner. From keeping up his non poking antics, to making funny faces and mocking the rat. Finally, when it seemed Megavolt was about to send off sparks of anger, Quackerjack wrapped his arms around the electrical villain's body. He brought the other closer to himself.

"Heh…okay, NOW I'm touching you."

Every bit of built up anger inside the electrical villain's body gathered at the base of his neck and melted, sending a shudder down the rodent's spine. He let out a shaky breath. Quackerjack always seemed to be able to calm him down, no matter HOW riled up he was. That was probably the only reason the demented duck was able to get out of so many well-deserved zaps to the keister.

Not that he always wanted to avoid that, Megavolt mused to himself.

"Okay, fine." replied the rodent, relaxing against his friend's warm presence. "But now I'm REALLY distracted." he finished, trying to sound annoyed and failing. He looked at the, by this point, shriveled up egg and suddenly wasn't in the mood for breakfast anymore.

"Well, there's still toast."

As if on cue, the slices of bread popped out of the toaster. They were ready to be buttered then enjoyed. Quackerjack snuggled his chin deeper into the demented rat's neck.

"Naaaaah, I rather eat you up. Om nom nom. Hehehe!" As if to prove his point, he took his chin away to replace the crevice with playful (but gentle) nibbles.

Now this was a game Megavolt didn't mind playing along with, but that didn't stop him from flushing at the intimate gesture. The spatula was abandoned on the counter as both of the rodent's hands planted themselves on either side of Quackerjack's hips. It wasn't his rump, but from this position it would have to do.

"Oh, yeah? Well I prefer my duck a little TOASTED." he growled, sending a light wave of voltage into the duck's frame even through his poofy jester pants.

The sudden shock made Quackerjack unintentionally clamp down harder onto the rodent's neck. His body tingling where the voltage hit him. And other places tingling where it did not. The duck chuckled seductively, before speaking again.

"Ya know, they say some things lose nutrients when cooked."

The jester gave his partner's new wound a lick. His teeth did not break the skin, but one could see where he left an impression. He licked it a few more times, purposefully slurping so the vibrations went into the skin. Quackerjack then stopped to talk again.

"Good thing I'm nothing better than junk food, huh? Heh."

Megavolt attempted to keep the witty banter going, but his next response came out as more of a jumbled moan, as his mind began to overload with erogenous pleasure. That duck knew exactly where his buttons were and just how to press them, in more ways than one.

It was at that moment the rodent's mind cleared enough to become aware of two things; one, that both of his fists were clutching the jester's pants sides so tightly that his fingers were starting to go numb, and two, the eager hardness pressing against his lower back. Megavolt's eyes went wide and he felt a mild panic well up inside. Forcing his fists to un-clutch, he gently but firmly began pushing away from his partner until he was free enough he could turn to face him. He caught a slight pout on his friend's bill when he did so.

"Uh, eh heh. Maybe we should, um..." he made a circle with his index finger in the air, signaling for Quackerjack to turn around.

"ooooh! Hahaha! Are you still against me sticking my slinky up trap doors? I said I was sorry. How was I suppose to know we'd get stuck? Heh."

Seeing that Megavolt was not amused, and didn't want playtime to be ruined just like their breakfast, the toymaker decided to give a more helpful suggestions. "Here, how about I lean up against the other counter. As hot as I find ya, I don't think you'd wanna get burned by the stove. Plus, you DO have the back of a grandpa."

Quackerjack didn't wait for a response, which was probably for the better. Megs crossed his arms over his chest crossly and glared at him as he skipped over to the far counter. But desire from seconds before were still coursing their way through the rodent's body, as was evident by the tented attire, and one playful butt shake from the duck had him forgetting about the grandpa comment entirely. He wasted no time in joining Quackerjack at the other counter.

Another inviting wag greeted him when he got there. Slipping his thumbs under the waist band of the duck's trousers, slowly pulling them down to reveal a happily wagging tail, and the ample feathery butt underneath. Megavolt couldn't stop the devious grin that spread across his face at that moment. Oh how he enjoyed that butt.

After dropping his own bottoms, Megavolt pressed his groin and stiff member to Quackerjack's downy deriair, and wrapped his arms around, sliding both hands up the jester's shirt, and caressing the mallard's lower chest and stomach. This caused Quackerjack to giggle from the slight tickling sensation, until the roaming hands found their way to his stiffening slinky, and both hands closed around it in a firm squeeze.

This seemed to be the trick to stop the duck's giggle, as it then became the jester's moan. His member only hardened more in the glove covered hands. The gloves felt warmer than usual, no doubt from how the rodent has been busy cooking at the stove.

"SOMEBODY is cooking in the kitchen with Dinah, it seems. Heh. What's on the menu today, chef?"

The duck's member was given another squeeze, and the rodent thrust his hips forward slowly, enjoying how the soft feathers left against his sensitive flesh. "How about a little roast duck, with a side of sausage, hmmm? And maybe some duck sa- wait a minute, Dinah? Why would I be cooking with an iron? I mean, Dinah's a nice gal and all, but between you and me she's a terrible cook. Burns holes in my favorite shirts, too."

Megavolt let go and stood back, clearly confused as to what it was he had been about to do. It didn't take long for him to recall, however, and his face lit up deviously before falling at a simple realization. Quackerjack looked over his shoulder and whimpered, wondering what the problem was. Megavolt slumped.

"We're out of lotion AND lube." he groaned. He had understood why the three-headed monster puppy had decided to chow down on their lube; at least THAT had been cherry flavored. But their hand lotion? Megavolt would never understand what went on in that creature's three minds.

Realization struck the duck twice as hard, knowing what it meant. While Quackerjack didn't care if lube was used or not, he knew how annal his electrical partner was about it. He glared as he thought of Bitey, the three headed puppy he had been given by a criminal cohort as a pet. At the time, it had been funny to see the dog burp up pink and fruity scented bubbles. But now that it was, you know, NEEDED, it had lost all its charm and hilarity.

Quackerjack's eyes darted around the kitchen, wanting to find SOMETHING that could be helpful to his situation. He smiled again as his eyes landed on something useful.

"Oh cheeeeef, " he teased, " Don't you guys use butter in your cooking?"

The duck wiggled his eyebrows, to help show the intentions his comment had.

Megavolt stared blankly for a few moments before his mouth hung open as he caught on to what Quackerjack had just suggested.

"Butter? Are you out of your MIND? That's ridiculous! Completely and utterly disgusting! That isn't even- okay." desperate times called for desperate measures, and the panfully throbbing member assured him they were indeed desperate.

Snatching the butter off the counter and prying off the lid, the rodent dipped a gloved hand into the container and immediately went to work applying the glob of butter to his tool.  
>"Ah! Cold!" he cried as the previously refrigerated spread came into contact with his overheated length. He heard Quackerjack snicker.<p>

"Hahaha! 'I can't believe it's not lube.' Has a ring to it, don't you think? If we ever went straight (haaaaaa), we could sell it as a new product. Heh."

Megavolt slapped the toy maker's rear forcefully. It sent another yelp of delight through him. However, the duck couldn't tell if that was a "yes" or a "no" to his suggestion.

The electrical villain got himself into position once again behind his partner, but this time he didn't bother with the dry humping or fondling. After finding his target, he pressed the tip of his member to the duck's tight entrance. The greasy feel that covered his self made him slightly uncomfortable, but he barely noticed through his own anticipation.

One quick thrust, and the rodent's modest length was buried inside his friend. He didn't bother starting off slow. No sooner had he pushed himself inside, Megavolt pulled out again and slammed himself back in.

Quackerjack's moan became hitched in his throat, as Megavolt slammed him hard enough to send the duck's knees bucking and Quackerjack's privates into the counter. It didn't seem to phase the rodent too much, as he thrust himself in again. The toy maker didn't mind, as he happily clutched onto the top to help hold him up. He was lost to the feel of flesh and voltage hitting his sweet spot. The new and exotic feel of the butter on his insides only flaming his burning loins. As Megavolt thrusted in him, Quackerjack's head of his slinky rubbed against the wooden counter. His juices painting its own work of art that only a lover could judge with passion. The duck's bill curled and cooed with pleasure, when the rodent would pump and squeeze his shaft every time he was brought to reality.

The vigorous thrusting came at a cost, however, as Megavolt found himself reaching his peak, perhaps too quickly. Instead of slowing, however, he began to pump his partner's shaft harder, and applying sporadic current through its length. The rodent was leaking precome badly by this point, and was already panting heavily.

Quackerjack sucked his teeth as the new addition of voltage to his member was given. The toymaker was hitting the point where he needed release, and badly. The pleasure almost becoming too much for him too handle. In and out. In and out. Squeeze, pump. ZAP. Squeeze, pump. ZAP. Keeping his mind on the pattern was the only way to let Quackerjack control his grip on reality. He had a record of finishing last, as this was a streak he was GOING to keep up. Megavolt seemed to be getting even more excited, as the zaps to both his prostate and penis increased in intensity.

The overly-stimulated electrical current coursing throughout Megavolt's body quickly sent his neurotransmitters into overdrive, and through the thick fog of passion he felt the growing pressure in his groin let go, with a final surge of excited static from both his rod and the hand that had been pumping his partner's leaking member.

High voltage entered Quackerjack from both ends. The ejaculation sending the voltage traveling high up his insides. Sparks and stars exploded behind the duck's eyelids, as he moaned loudly in passion; his own juices exploding from his member forcefully. He panted as he couldn't tell if the blast hurt his softening soldier, or if the pain was the pleasure itself. Quackerjack smiled as he felt his cum on his down feathers and all over the counter.

Yeah, he enjoyed this game a heck of a lot.

"Phew, I think ya did a number on me, this time. Heh. I'm still having trouble seeing. Eyes are kinda foggy." Quackerjack sighed, then taking in a deep breath, only to cough as tainted gas entered his lungs.

Megavolt sniffed the heavy air as he pulled up his pants. "Wait a minute... that isn't fog! It's smoke! OH NO! The STOVE! I forgot about the STOVE!"

He bolted across the room in a panic, smelling charcoaled eggs through the smokescreen, grabbed the handle of the pan blindly and yelled out in pain as the heat even permeated through his rubber gloves.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

It looked as if the rodent was doing an awkward little jig as he rushed the pan over to the sink and promptly dropped it inside with a loud clatter, and turned the faucet on to stop the smoking. There was a sharp hissing sound as the cool water collided with the scorched pan.

While Megavolt was busy stopping the whole kitchen from burning up in flames, the jester took the rag off the counter. It had been the one that the electrical rodent had thrown at him earlier. He wiped off the cum from his feathers, as he snickered and laughed at the other villain's exploits. The thick air causing him to cough every now and again as he did so. Finally, Quackerjack was as clean as he was going to be, and pulled up his pants. The duck continued with his glee, as he joined Megavolt at the sink.

"Welp, looks like breakfast really is done for. May it rest in peace." He paused as he looked down at the torn up food in the sink, black as a tar barrel. "Heh. Or, in this case, scrambled."

Megavolt sighed and shook his head. "Yeah... oh, well. That was enjoyable, too." The electrical rodent's stomach took that moment to protest loudly. "I'm still kinda hungry, though."

"Oh, teeeeeeell me about it! I'm so hungry I could eat a horse! Although, I don't really want to eat out somebody I don't know. Heh." Quackerjack winked playfully, showing he was teasing about the subject. "Still, I could go for lots and lots of pancakes."

The duck jumped giddily in place, as inspiration struck.

"Ooo ooo, I know the PERFECT place! Looks like we're eating out, after all. Hehe."

Quackerjack grabbed onto Megavolt's wrist, as he began to drag him from the room. They did need to eat, after all, so they could get ready for another night of fun. This time, yet another special playdate with Darkwing Duck. They had already trumped him three times all ready, why not make it four?

"What, wait a minute!" Any other time, Megavolt would just let himself be dragged away by Quackerjack; it was just easier than arguing the overgrown child. But the lingering smell of gas in the air told him he'd forgotten to shut the stove off.

Quackerjack stopped tugging his friend along when he started to struggle and complain, and let go. He watched as Megavolt turned the stove off, and then disappeared around the corner into the living room. All the while the duck had his arms crossed and has tapping his foot impatiently.

After what seemed like weeks, but was really only a minute, Megavolt returned with his battery pack and chest plug and secured them around himself, before giving a quick nod in the duck's direction.

"Okay. Where are we going, anyway?"

"Oh, just a magical place where the servers give us rainbows."

Megavolt smiled. "We're going to UHoW, huh?"

"Yup! Like I listen to court orders anyway. Hehehe!" Thus the two villains went off on their mission. With talk of sweet syrups and savory sides, they chatted all the way to their destination.

It wasn't a Monday. Or a Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. And it wasn't a fun Saturday or a restful Sunday. It was a Tuesday. A simple boring Tuesday. But, we normal members of society tend to forget one minor detail…

No day is ever mundane for the insane.

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End.

AN:

Moonie: ... I'll never look at butter the same way again. On second thought I think maybe I'll avoid it all together.

Snark: The question is…were THEY able to eat their pancakes once it was brought to them, with butter topping it?

Moonie: Yeah. Probably. They probably asked for extra butter on theirs after that. 

Snark: LOL. OM NOM NOM. I can't believe it's not lube!

Moonie: Snarkieboooo, you're making my tummy all urpy =(

Snark: Heh. Sorry. Should we switch to talk of butterflies? …can we make a Quackerjack/Megavolt porn about butterflies? Not "can' as in "may we". But "can" as in "is this even possible. If so, may we add it to the list?" …okay, so maybe it was the first "can" after all, too. 

Moonie: I'm confident you could turn anything into porn, Snarkieboo. That's why you're my hero. But anything involving a living bug zapper can't have a happy ending for those poor butterflies.

Snark: The sadist in me gets tingly from the thought. The masochist in me, however, gets jealous.

Moonie: I'm starting to notice a pattern of not actually noting about the story we were supposed to be noting about. Let's just go take care of that tingly of yours instead.

Snark: Hey, at least we're consistent! And yaaaaaaay! You spoil me. Can you bring out the whisk this time? We got to use something cooking themed, after all. 

Moonie: Okie dokie! ... But no butter.

Snark: Spoil Sport. :( And with that, we're out! Ooooooh, someone's in the kitchen with Moooooonieeeee~


End file.
